


Au Revoir

by RosaClearwater



Series: Breathe [2]
Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaClearwater/pseuds/RosaClearwater
Summary: A train station, a gloved hand, and a goodbye.





	Au Revoir

           The typical noises of the station swirl in and out of consciousness. Normally, the littlest of details never fail to escape Hercule Poirot. Yet, in this case, he couldn’t breathe in a whiff of the particulars surrounding this scene -- only her.

            He doesn’t notice the clouds of mystery lurking behind the strangers in the station. He doesn’t detect the flurry of action that would normally send his little grey cells spiraling into action.

            He can only gaze at her, opening the door to the train compartment as she steps into a future he cannot join. He respectfully removes his trademark Homburg out of gallant habit, allowing himself to just absorb the woman standing before him.

            The shrill whistle breaks through the fog of memory and emotion, even though thoughts of veiled sentiment were daring to announce their presence. Instead, he inhales cold reality.

            “But I forget --! I, I have something for you.”

            “A parting present.” _Not quite_.

            “Souvenir.” His standard eloquence seemed to have departed the moment she stepped onto the train.

            “The cigarette case?” The disbelief coloring her tone does not deter the piercing truth.

            “The double clue.”

            “It’s of no use to me,” Truth can still be hidden in the fog of desire – the desire to ignore reality. “It’s inscribed B.P.”

            

            “Yes.” And, for a moment, he too can ignore reality.

 

            But only for a moment.

 

            “And yet, in the Russian Alphabet, a ‘B’ is a ‘V’ and ‘P’ is a ‘R’, is it not, Vera Rossakoff?” He observes the hints of surprise that show themselves in her reaction and firmly holds his gaze. A faint smile glows on her face as respect and longing hide themselves line themselves in her skin.

            “You will keep it, I hope? Something to remember me by?”

            The lighthearted air fades away from her expression. She understands now.

            “Oh.”

            The heavy air of the station curls around the couple, as an earnest moment of thought clouds the farewell.

            “I won’t forget you, Hercule.” Even as her arms delicately move to him, a wall is building from within. It trembles from her chaste kiss, quivers as gloved hands meet, but remains indubitably firm.

            “Nor I, you,” The warmth drops like a tear. Without stepping away or averting his ever alert gaze, Poirot has already regained his composure. “ _Countess_.”

  
            The whistle sounds again, and a faint “Au revoir” is called out with a gloved hand extended out. He almost seems to reach out in longing, bemusement clearly wrapped around his face. A smile graces the aging detective, and his hand stutters in its descent.

            But solemn reality takes ahold of the air once more, and all he can do is breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a cathartic experience to cope with a change in relationship and a loss than it is an attempt at a fanfiction collection. It won’t be beta’d. There’ll be moments from canon, and creations from fanon. It’ll also probably jump from fandom to fandom, but only time will tell.


End file.
